The Extra's Rise

"As expected, it wasn't up to your level, right, Lucifer?" Ian asked, arms crossed as he watched Arthur pull his fist back, his strike clearly losing out despite the equal aura reinforcement.

Lucifer didn't answer immediately.

Arthur simply exhaled, nodded in thanks, and walked off toward his room.

Lucifer's gaze lingered on his own right fist, flexing his fingers slightly, as if testing something unseen.

Rachel frowned, watching him. "What's up?"

Lucifer wordlessly sank into the empty sofa, his expression unreadable.

Then, almost too softly, he muttered—

"That was dangerous."

Ian and Rachel both heard it.

Ian's brows furrowed. "Dangerous? How?"

Lucifer tilted his hand, rolling his wrist once.

"Double Delay Piston," he said finally. "He hit me with two impacts. Two delays."

Rachel blinked. Ian straightened.

"What?" Ian said sharply. "That's—how the hell is that even possible? We just learned normal Delay Piston today!"

"I know," Lucifer said, his voice calm, but weighted.

He flexed his fingers again, eyes narrowing slightly.

"It wasn't perfect," he admitted. "I was able to disperse it before it landed properly."

Then, after a beat—

"But I had to use my Gift to do it."

A silence stretched between them.

Ian's expression shifted, his usual easygoing demeanor slipping, just for a second.

Rachel's gaze flickered toward Arthur's door.

Lucifer had never needed to use his Gift against any of them before.

But tonight?

Arthur Nightingale had forced him to.

"Of course," Lucifer exhaled, loosening his fingers, "he's still limited by his mana rank. And he doesn't have a Gift. But that was—" he paused, eyes narrowing slightly, "truly impressive."

Rachel didn't respond immediately.

Instead, she tilted her head, lips pressed together in thought.

Her instincts had been nagging at her all evening, and now, she wasn't so sure she could ignore them anymore.

'My thoughts... may not be wrong after all.'

She filed that away for later.

Meanwhile, Ian had pulled out his holographic phone, scrolling through something with lazy efficiency.

"Nightingale, Nightingale…" he muttered under his breath, swiping through historical records like he was skimming a grocery list. "Ah, got it! I knew I remembered them from somewhere."

Lucifer glanced over. "What is it?"

Ian tapped the screen, pulling up a file.

"The Nightingales—they're a knight family." He leaned back slightly, still reading. "Douglas Nightingale, Arthur's father, is an Integration-ranker. He even won a Medal for Merit. That's why his name rang a bell."

Before Lucifer could respond, a new voice cut in.

"You were talking about that loser all this time?"

Ren appeared as suddenly as a bad decision, his violet eyes gleaming with disinterest.

Lucifer sighed, as if he had been expecting this.

"He's not a loser, Ren."

Ren snorted, folding his arms. "Knight captain, huh?" He sounded thoroughly unimpressed. "Is that meant to be impressive?"

Ian frowned slightly, but Ren wasn't done.

"Our families have Radiant-rankers." He waved a hand, as if dismissing the very concept of anything lower. "And his father is a mere Integration-ranker. That's nothing."

He smirked.

"And Arthur himself? So weak he got slapped around by Seraphina."

Lucifer didn't react immediately.

Then—slowly, almost lazily—he turned his head and leveled a look at Ren.

A quiet, unreadable look.

The kind of look that made people realize they had stepped too close to something dangerous.

"Ren Kagu, be careful of your words."

Lucifer's voice wasn't loud, nor was it sharp. It was calm—too calm—like the moment before a storm decides whether to break or pass by in silence.

Ren met his gaze without a flicker of hesitation.

"Lucifer," he said, his tone almost conversational, "I admit it. You're stronger than me."

Ian blinked. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

That was… surprisingly direct.

Ren, of course, wasn't finished.

"But that's only for now."

His violet eyes gleamed with a quiet, burning certainty.

"I'll surpass you," he said, as if it were a simple inevitability.

Then, a smirk.

"After all, I am a Kagu. A family above your Windwards."

The air shifted.

Lucifer's expression didn't change, but there was something dangerous in the way he tilted his head slightly, as if weighing whether or not this conversation was worth his time.

"Above mine?" Lucifer repeated, his voice still frustratingly composed.

"You are arrogant, Ren."

Ren scoffed. "Am I wrong?"

And then he went for the throat.

"My family produced the First Hero."

A pause.

"The only Hero to ever exist—Liam Kagu."

Lucifer said nothing.

His silence stretched just a little too long.

Ian shifted uncomfortably. Rachel glanced between them.

Ren took that as a victory.

"And I," he declared, his voice filled with unshakable belief, "will be someone who surpasses him."

He turned, stepping away, but not before throwing one last glance over his shoulder.

"Just wait and watch."

And with that, he was gone.

Lucifer didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Rachel finally broke the silence.

"That was…" she trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Annoying," Ian offered.

Lucifer exhaled.

"Interesting," he murmured.

"Interesting?" Rachel tilted her head, eyeing Lucifer with mild suspicion.

Lucifer simply grinned, stretching his arms behind his head with easy confidence.

"At least someone hasn't lost hope in surpassing me," he said.

Rachel sighed. Typical.

'Arrogant.' The word floated through her thoughts, unbidden.

And yet… it wasn't unwarranted.

Lucifer Windward was an existence that made others despair.

A talent so absurd, so overwhelming, that it warped the expectations of what was possible.

It wasn't just that he was strong—it was that, for now, he was so far above everyone else their age that it hardly seemed fair.

Rachel leaned forward slightly, watching him.

"Are you in spellcasting classes as well, Lucifer?" she asked.

He nodded, a little too casually.

"Yeah, but I'm taking classes with the seniors since I need to learn five-circle magic." He flashed her a grin. "Sorry, Rach."

Rachel scoffed, crossing her arms.

"I'll catch up soon. Don't be so arrogant."

Lucifer chuckled. "You will," he said easily. Then, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he continued,

"You'll be the Saintess."

Rachel blinked.

Lucifer leaned back against the sofa, gaze drifting lazily to the ceiling.

"Cecilia will be the Archwitch. Ian, the dragon. Ren, the Fist God. Jin, the great necromancer. Seraphina, the swordsman."

And then, with complete certainty—

"And I'll be the Hero."

There was a moment of silence.

Then, Ian chuckled, shaking his head.

"You've gone and given all of us titles, huh?"

Lucifer tilted his head. "What, you don't like them?"

Ian exhaled. "Nah," he admitted. "No one's more suited to be the Hero than you."

Then, quieter—

"I just hope you become a Hero against the cults—not against a Calamity."

Lucifer's smile didn't fade.

But he didn't respond either.